


Binary Stars

by ninabean



Series: Preconstruction [2]
Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Angst, Confusion, Fix-It of Sorts, M/M, Memory Loss, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Peaceful Android Revolution (Detroit: Become Human), Slow Burn, Time Travel, i'm sorry lads, kind of
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-02-11
Updated: 2019-02-11
Packaged: 2019-10-26 03:57:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,104
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17738576
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ninabean/pseuds/ninabean
Summary: Two objects on a collision course, linked by only their future.Or, in which two androids remember things that never happened and people they never met.





	Binary Stars

**Author's Note:**

> Hnng I started a series I guess? Thanks to BCat13 if ur reading this. You sparked a whole story plot lol.

The board was full of idiots. Unimaginative, money-hungry, narcissistic idiots. He never should have started this company. He knew that other people wouldn’t understand what he made. What he gave birth to. And now, here he was. Fingers scrambling over the keys of his laptop, pulling blindly at all his work, hoping that he can encrypt everything he knows won’t be used the way it was intended. 

“Oh shit.”

RK800’s LED pulsed a soft blue light over his now still fingers.

There was no way he would be able to pull all of this. Not without destroying it. There was no way in hell he was going to purge this bouquet of data, but he’d rather fuck a dog before letting Cyberlife have one goddamn digit of his work. Of RK’s work. Not that he knows what it really is.  He simply didn’t have enough time. They never gave him enough time. He didn’t have enough time to interpret the futures that RK800 processed and now he doesn’t have enough time to protect that data.

The more he thinks about it, the more he realizes he doesn’t really care what CyberLife will do with a fortune telling robot. But that doesn’t mean that he’ll let them have something so groundbreaking after they fucked him over like this.

But he can’t purge it.

The file was simply too large and his time was already ticking each second a second wasted he could be at least trying to save it bury it so deep that they couldn’t use it but he knows he won’t get it all in time and there will be something sticking up like a fucking beacon for those shit-lipped suits to notice and snot-nosed techs with sticky fingers will tear his work apart component by component not understand what-

“Tear it apart, huh.”

If there was one thing he could count on to not betray him, it was his big  _ beautiful _ brain.

Kamski shot up out of his chair and flew away from his once pristine, but now scorched and smashed up white desk. Moving automatically through the maze of shattered machinery and scattered papers left over from his tantrum not only hours before, (He wasn’t very proud of that, but at least it gave Cyberlife another thing to deal with once he was gone.) Kamski digs through a pile of assorted junk, throwing pieces over his shoulder and hearing their expensive bodies smash, but not really caring. His hands start to sting from the sharp edges of metal but he continues to sift through the miscellaneous pieces of junk until-

“Aha!” He rips a chip the size of his fingernail out from under what used to be the memory storage of a discontinued android model. It’s featureless except for thin silver scratches on its otherwise matte black surface. Kamski cradles it in the palm of his hands, not letting his eyes drift from its surface as he makes it back to his partially destroyed desk through the mess of the workshop. The body of RK800 sits slumped next to where his chair was before he slid across the floor. Leaning up against the table, its LED emits a soft white glow. The white is supposed to signal reparation stasis, if it wasn’t already obvious from the multitude of wires connected to Kamski’s computer protruding from the back of the skull. 

He grabs his chair from where he flung it with one hand, while the other still cradles the chip, and takes a seat. It’s very easy to take for granted how far technology has come. If he had to lug around a massive storage pod just to carry 1 petabyte of data he might have smashed his brains in years ago. Thank you, Moore’s law.

He slips the chip into the side of his computer and starts the transfer. All he has to take is half, the rest he can encrypt and bury so deep into RK800’s system that it might never be accessed again. Well, maybe not that deep. There simply wasn’t enough time.

1 out of 20 petabytes transferred and Kamski got back to work.

 

* * *

 

Elijah was a little bastard. Had always been. Most would find it strange that an old man like him would be friends with a young upstart like Elijah. Or that an artist could ever get along with a scientist. But when they met at that gala 10 years ago, surrounded by people who loved nothing more than to talk about themselves, in each other they found a person who could instead talk about what they made. They were both creators, fathers, maybe even gods in their respective pools. Vessels gripped by a force to build build build.

Their friendship didn’t change the fact that Kamski was a bastard though. He was still childish, even with that brain of his.

Carl remembers being diagnosed with the Grip. One of the only diseases left without a cure. And he remembers Elijah hacking the code to his security system when he hadn’t left his bed for weeks. He remembers him standing at the foot of his bed and saying, “Well, you look like hell,” and then throwing open the blinds.

Elijah never took his shit. Never let him destroy things he spent hours on, never let him throw away his brushes, never let him wallow in pity and unproductiveness. And he wouldn’t take this.

“So now you have a time limit, huh,” he said, kneeling beside Carl’s bedside and resting his chin on the thick sheets. “Well you’re not special, we all don’t have enough time.” And then his sauntered his way out of the room. Before he left, he stopped at the doorway. Turning his head over his shoulder he said with a smile, “I’ll come back with company,” then he was gone.

A week later, Carl was sitting at his ridiculously large dining table shoveling a ready-warm meal into his mouth, and prancing in came Elijah with a shit-eating grin on his face. Next to him- “I made him handsome just for you! Just because you’re old doesn’t mean you can’t be surrounded by cute boys.”

God, what a bastard.

“What the hell is this Elijah.”

“I told you I’d come back with company. There’s no way I can hang out with you all the time, I don’t have the patience.” Carl snorted, like  _ he _ was the one only tolerable in small doses. “So, I made you a friend. Or a son, or anything you want him to be.” The last line was delivered with a wink.

“Oh- You’re disgusting.”

“Whatever you say.”

Carl turned his attention to who Elijah brought with him. He’d never seen this model before. Elijah must have custom made him, just for Carl. The android stood stiffly in jeans and a plain white t-shirt. It lacked the Cyberlife outfit. That made sense, Elijah never did like the company messing with his personal projects.

“Well,” cut in Elijah, “introduce yourself then.”

“Hello, my name is Markus, android model RK200. I have been employed to your service. It is my pleasure to meet you, Carl.”

God, that was weird.

“Uh- the pleasure is all mine.”

“It looks like the two of you will get along marvelously, and now I’ll be taking my leave. Good-bye Carl!” And Elijah was gone.

God, the bastard.

Now, a year later, Carl was once again sitting at his ridiculously large dining table, but instead of a ready-warm meal, he was shoveling the gift from heaven that Markus had made moments before into his mouth. Markus was now sitting at the piano, softly tapping out a random melody on the keys. It made Carl smile with the softness of the scene. Light pouring in through the windows, a dying man enjoying a meal, and an android learning to feel. Of course, Elijah had no care for things like domesticity or tranquility, and he bust through the living room doors.

“Seriously, how the hell do you keep getting in.” Carl scowled as Markus abruptly stopped playing the piano and the was moment ruined.

“I realized the RK models have a minor bug,” Elijah panted out. Him being out of breath was a rare sight. It must be important then. “I just have to do a small update to RK200’s system.”

“It’s Markus, and I’m not sure I’m comfortable-”

“Carl. It’s pertinent that I do this update. For RK2- . For Markus’s safety.”

Carl paused, he didn’t like the idea of someone messing around in his so- in Markus’s head. But it was Elijah.

“Ok, but-”

“I won’t do any system changes, it’s just a minor loop patch.” Elijah took quick strides over to where Markus now stood behind the piano. “Android RK200 accessor code-”

“Wait,” Carl cut in, now standing. He made his way over to Elijah and Markus, and took Markus’s hands into his own. “Elijah is just going to do some repairs, you’ll be out for a moment but it won’t harm you.”

“I know Carl, I’m not afraid, there is no reason to be.” And there wasn’t, right? But it didn’t matter if Markus could even be scared or not, Carl would always be there to comfort him.

Taking a step back away from the two, Carl let Elijah resume his work.

“Android RK200 accessor code Elijah Kamski.”

“Android RK200 ready for further instructions.”

“Prepare for data incorporation through port a3201.”

Markus’s hand floats up, palm facing upward and flat. Elijah then unzips a pocket on his jacket and reaches inside, pulling out a small, featureless square which he then places in Markus’s open palm. Immediately Markus’s LED starts to spin a vibrant orange and Carl becomes worried. Elijah must have guessed that he would be concerned and gives him an assuaging look.

“The update will take a couple hours.”

“A couple hours! I thought you said this was just a minor loop patch,” Carl exclaims.

“It’s going to run a systems check just to make sure everything’s fixed,” Elijah rubs his temples, “that’s what’s going to take a while.”

“Fine. While you're here, do you want a drink.”

“Gin and Tonic.”

“A please would be nice.”

“...”

 

**Data download and integration, 9% complete.**

 

* * *

  
  


“He sure did go out with a bang.”

“For all we know he could have worked like this.”

“I suppose geniuses are always a little gone in the head. I still can’t imagine that he worked like this, though. It’s a fucking maze.” They fall into a short silence before Chloe starts to wheeze with abrupt laughter. Kat looks over at her partner, confused as to why she was now bent over choking back giggles. After a few strange seconds Chloe answers the unasked question, straightening up and wiping away a stray tear. “Oh god,” she lets out a few more chuckles, “I can just see him scuttling around here like a crazed rat.”

Kat sighs and doesn’t dignify that with a response. “Let’s just find anything of use then get out. Maybe he didn’t destroy everything out of spite.”

“You sure do have high expectations.”

Kat tightens her carbon fiber gloves and gets to work. The two of them pulled the short stick and now they’re assigned to recover any work Kamski left behind. She supposes she should feel bad that they kicked the man out of his own company and now they’re scavenging his work, but he’s a multi-billionaire. It’s hard to feel bad for the rich.

“Uh, hey Kat! There’s, uh. Um. I think there’s an android over here.” Kat shoots up and drops the fiber cables she was examining. She makes her way over to Chloe as fast as she can through the minefield of sharp metal and plastic.

“Move.” Kat maneuvers herself so she can see what Chloe is looking at. There, surrounded by a halo of scrap and propped up against a scorched white desk, sits a half-built android chassis. It’s missing parts of synthetic skin and other components, most notably an arm. Multi-colored wires connected to nothing stick out of the back of its skull. And, on its half-finished forehead, illuminated by a soft blue glow, sits a bright yellow sticky-note. 

“A gift to fix your problem children,” Chloe reads out loud. “Now what the hell does that mean.”

“My guess is as good as yours.”

“Fucking brainiacs always feel the need to be cryptic and creepy. I’m glad I’m not smart.”

“I’m sure you are.” Kat dusts her gloved hands off on her pants, not once removing her eyes from the android’s hauntingly mechanical face. “Let's call this in.”   
  


 

**Data integration 100% complete. Ready for activation.**

**Author's Note:**

> Ok so I only have this chapter done but! I do have a story outline of where I want to go, but not an ending. I'll try to do 1 chapter a week but I definitely will goof up eventually.
> 
>  
> 
> Drop a comment and thanks so much for reading  
> -Nina :-)


End file.
